


Kiss it Better

by darkling2222



Category: Split (2016)
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-29
Updated: 2017-04-29
Packaged: 2018-10-25 12:45:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10764537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darkling2222/pseuds/darkling2222
Summary: You can accomplish by kindness what you cannot by force.





	Kiss it Better

**Author's Note:**

> Not a great title or summary but I like this fic! Thanks for reading!

Dennis comes back to the room a few minutes after dragging Claire away after her botched escape through the ceiling, still snarling and furious. Blood drips down his chin from his split lip and there’s an equally impressive gash on the side of his shaved head, deep claw marks from acrylic nails. 

It looks like those six months of karate classes at the King of Prussia mall had been more effective then Casey had given Claire credit for.

“None of you, none of you try that again!” his chest is heaving, eyes wild. Casey stands up from the cot, approaching him slowly and carefully like he was a wounded animal. 

“Dennis--” She starts but he cuts her off, chest heaving, pointing an accusing finger.

“You will not be seeing your friend again.” she nods, taking a step closer, arms up and open in surrender.

“Claire deserved it, she never should have hit you.” Her voice is soft, gentle, careful to take his side. She reaches up a hand and he pulls his lips back in a snarl, ready to fight and she retreats. “It’s alright, I’m not gonna hurt you. Is it okay if I help you get fixed up? That cut looks pretty nasty.” 

“No, no, you can’t leave.” he turns to go but she steps close again, her mind races for an excuse for him to let her out.

“You won’t be able to bandage all that on your own, Dennis. You’re bleeding an awful lot.” He can feel the blood dripping hot down his ear and neck, it feels like a lot, he’s afraid to touch it. “I know you don’t want to make a mess. And you must know how much blood stains.” A quiver of old fear runs cold through his veins, he had made the mistake before of collapsing after a beating and staining the carpet rust red. The second whipping had been worst then the first. 

“Just let me help you get fixed up. Then I’ll go right back, I promise.” Casey keeps her voice soft and soothing, this is her chance. She reaches out to rest her hand on his arm but he jerks back as if she had tried to hit him. “Shh, shh, it’s alright, I only want to help, it’s alright.” Casey thinks back on all the times when she had been hurt, how desperately she had wanted someone to come and help her, the words are easy to come up with, it’s a script she has dreamed enough times that she has it memorized. 

She reaches her hand up, gently pressing the back of her hand to his swelling eye. Her skin is cool against the angry throbbing of the bruise that’s quickly forming. He stands stock still in answer to her touch and his mind is suddenly and wholly diverted to focus on her. She moves her hand away after a quiet moment.

He looks back at her, wavering. She continues softly “Then we can get some ice on that bruise and you’ll feel much better.” He manages to nod a little and she gently takes his arm, guiding him out the door. “Okay, honey, let’s go.” her words are soothing, working like a snake charmer on a cobra.

She breathes in sharply in anticipation as they leave both of the locked rooms and into the kitchen but thankfully he doesn’t notice. She sits him down at the kitchen table, the cuts sting and throb on his face, adrenaline wearing off as the pain comes stronger. This isn’t the first time he’s been hurt like this and it’s far from the worst but the memories are still hard to bear. Her voice breaks him out of the thoughts for a moment. 

“Dennis, do you have any band-aids?”

“in the cabinet.” He gestures vaguely to the right and she gets the box out. Casey tries to memorize the layout of the room, it’s so tempting to make a dash for it now but not with Dennis right here and already on alert. The best she can do is reconnaissance unless a better opportunity presents itself. 

“There we go, everything is alright now, it’ll be better soon.” She continues to coo and calm as she gets a towel damp at the sink, trying to maintain the spell of calm with a soft voice and touch. She holds the towel against his head, letting the blood clot a moment before placing the bandage against his head. Doctoring cuts is a practiced skill of hers, the scars that cover her arms and chest can attest to it. 

The contact stings and he winces. Casey freezes, waiting for the other shoe to drop, but after a moment of silence the equilibrium of calm returns. 

She cups his cheek gently, tilting his face up to hers as she dabs the towel gently over his broken lip. It’s hard to keep her composure when she’s so close to him and she has to work to keep her hand from shaking. He leans slightly into her touch, her skin is warm and so very soft. It seems like a positive response as unsettling as it is.

Although, in truth, if this was a situation that had allowed for things like pity Casey would have said he would have looked pitiful sitting there, bloody and bandaged and dazed.

Without thinking, some impulsive, instinctive kindness taking over and she leans down, kissing his brow above his throbbing eye. 

Her touch is a moment of revelation, her soft lips on his skin and her chest very close to his face. He closes his eyes with a shaking sigh in answer to her gentle affection before looking back at her with a look of wide-eyed shock. 

The action is as much a surprise to her as it is to him. the best-case scenario is that this absolute irrationality was some kind of panicked hysteria but at worst it’s Stockholm syndrome setting in but either way this was a mistake. She forces a smile in return as if she had intended it all along. 

“There we go, all better now.” She finishes as she presses the icepack to his eye, the cold cuts the throbbing down somewhat. He puts his hand on top of hers, taking the icepack from her.

“Thank you for the help.” He says with almost exaggerated formality that indicates more to her kiss then anything else. Casey nods back. 

“You’re welcome.” There’s part of her that hopes desperately that maybe this act of kindness would be enough to earn her freedom but he stands, towering several inches over her and any thought of sympathy for him vanishes. 

“I would like you to know that we don’t want to hurt you.” Her heart jumps and she almost smiles, _maybe he’ll let her go, maybe-_ “But sacrifices have to be made.” He continues, the words are as close as he can get to an apology. Tears burn in her eyes at the pain of losing even the slim hope of escape. A grim hysteria grips her thoughts, she’s going to die here, they’re all going to die here. He gestures for her to follow back to the cell. 

“Come on.” She nods meekly and follows behind him, shakily swallowing back tears. If she does nothing they’ll never escape and the panic crawls up her throat, this will be her only chance to get away. The thought is too much to stand and she bolts down the hallway in the opposite direction, mind blank beyond adrenaline static, _get away, get away, get away._

The hallway is a dead end save for a small window several feet above her head. 

“Please! Someone help!” Her voice is a ragged scream, fingers clawing at the edge of the high window, trying desperately to break the glass. A hand is suddenly clasped around the scruff of her neck and within the next second his body is pressed hard against hers, forcing her against the wall. 

He’s on top of her and she’s hyperventilating, ugly memories filling her mind. It’s happening again, her uncle all over again, she can’t keep herself from crying, tears and snot run down her face. She can’t make herself stop screaming. 

“Shut up!” he yells in her ear and she obeys on instinct, still shaking and hyperventilating.

She hears him sigh heavily, disappointed.

“I should lock you with that other one but... I’ll forgive you this one time.” He shifts off of her slightly but he still keeps his hand around her neck. “Come on now, no more messing around.” He forces her in front of him, clutching the collar of her shirt in his fist as he pushes her down the hallway. She’s shaking and sniffling, tears still running down her cheeks.

“Go on.” He herds her roughly back into the room and slams the door behind her before she can turn back and look at him so brokenly, her eyes red and swollen and desperate. 

A week later when the Beast emerges, Dennis breathes a sigh of relief when he sees the scars crisscrossing Casey’s skin. Casey’s pure. She’s one of them. And, most of all, it means she gets to live.


End file.
